Archive of Our Own

“Ghost Ghost Ghost Ghost Ghost Ghost Ghost Ghost Ghost!” you repeated loudly as you ran at your lieutenant, going as fast as your legs could carry you. He barely turned his head as you launched yourself into the air, landing squarely on his back with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, a massive grin on your face as you giggled in his ear. 

“What’s got you screamin’ like a banshee at this hour?” he asked, adjusting his vest.

“I had a lot of coffee this morning,” you enlightened him, earning a grunt of acknowledgement from the lieutenant. “And I missed you! You’ve been gone for a couple weeks, after all,” you said.

“Yeah, and lucky for you, I ain’t injured,” he drawled, making you realize that you could have seriously hurt your favorite lieutenant. 

“Anyways, here!” you said, turning up your palm to present him with a rock you’d found while he was gone. “For you.” 

Silently, he took the rock from you, and you kicked your legs in the air as you waited for him to respond. He rolled it between his fingers briefly before pocketing it in his vest, and still he didn’t say a word. 

“Well? Do you like it?” you asked, giving him a bit of a squeeze.

“What do you want?” he asked instead of answering, making you huff in annoyance.

“I wanted to know if you wanted to explore the nearby city with me!” you revealed, using your legs to boost yourself higher onto his shoulders. “I’ve never been to South Africa before! I wanna look around! Come with me! Please? Pretty please?” 

“No.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” you asked, making him sigh. 

“… you do know we’re here for work, right?” he questioned you, making you grin.

“So? I’m just saying, we might have some free time! If we do, can we go sight-seeing? Just for a liiiiittle bit?” you begged, your voice getting a little more high-pitched. 

“If it’ll get you t’shut up, fine,” he finally relented, making you throw your arms up as you cheered, easily landing on your feet.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, skipping forward so you were walking in step with him. Despite how gruff he was being, you knew that, if he really didn’t want to he’d tell you flat out. “I’ve kinda been trying to get a souvenir for every place I visit, but some of the places we go are so remote, or we’re so busy, that I never get the chance.”

“Rocks don’t count?” Ghost asked, making you shake your head.

“I mean, yes and no, I really wanna get something unique to each place! Something pretty that’ll really add colour to my apartment,” you rambled, using your fingers to illustrate your list of requirements. “Something small, easy to transport, of course, but something nice! Something that’ll make me smile when I see it, y’know?”

“I don’t really put much thought into my place, I’m never there,” he shrugged. 

“You should! It gives you something to look forward to!” you argued, squeezing his arm pointedly. “A throw rug, a fun shower curtain, hell, a fake plant! I have tons of them at my place! I mean, I have to dust them, but still! Oh! And mugs, I collect mugs too, and Christmas ornaments! Do you collect anything?”

“… no,” he answered

“Oh, that’s boring,” you complained with a sigh. “Do you at least have a favorite colour? I can look out for trinkets to get you!”

“Only children have favorite colours,” he scoffed at you, which made you roll your eyes so hard that it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of your skull. 

“No, that’s just what society tells you because no one wants adults to have any fun,” you argued, a derisive sneer on your face, “but that’s fuckin’ stupid, so, what’s your favorite colour?”

“I don’t have one,” he grit out in annoyance at you.

“Then pick one, dammit!” you pestered him, grabbing his sleeve and tugging on it obnoxiously until he clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

“Fine…” he trailed off, seeming to be searching for an answer, “green,” he shrugged, not elaborating.

“Ooooh, that’s a good one! What type of green? Like, emerald green, forest green, army green, mint green, lime green, which one?” you asked curiously.

“Mint,” he replied flatly, making you nod along.

“Mint’s a good colour, nice and soothing,” you smiled, nodding in approval at the choice. “Hmm, I dunno if I have a favorite colour, but I have colours I like more than others, y’know? I can’t decide which one I love the most.” You began to ramble on about different colours you liked, how they made you feel and why you liked them so much, before moving on to the next colour. A lot of them involved stupid stories from before you met 141, but they made you smile to think about them again. Ghost listened silently beside you, not saying anything more than an occasional hum or short huff of almost-laughter, but you didn’t mind. You knew his attention was on you, and you enjoyed spending this time with him. You really did miss him while he was gone, and you liked to think he missed you, too. 

“Hey baby,” someone called out, making you turn on impulse as you stopped your story telling. Your expression immediately soured when you saw a small group of privates huddled nearby, leering at you. “C’mon sweetheart, come an’ play with us, we’ll show you a good time,” what sounded like the same man said, making his buddies laugh amongst themselves. Before you could react, Ghost marched over to them, murderous intent radiating off of him, and you scampered to catch up with the lieutenant before he had the chance to kill one of them. 

“Wooooah there! Down boy, down,” you jokingly called out, catching Ghost by the shoulder as he stopped in front of the group. He looked down at you, obviously confused (it was obvious to you, at least), but you just winked at him before turning to the offending private, who looked confused and a little intimidated by Ghost. You two held gazes for a while, the private seeming confused by the dynamic between you and your lieutenant, before, without warning, you socked him right in the face, feeling his nose crunch and give under your fist. 

The man fell to the floor in a dramatic, howling heap, holding his nose and writhing on the ground as his buddies looked on, not sure how to react. You squatted down beside the injured private, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and pulled him close to your face. You could smell his blood and fear. 

“If you run your mouth like that, expect it to come and bite you in the ass,” you warned with a growl before letting go of his bloodied uniform. With a sweet smile, you stood up and patted Ghost on the arm before turning and leaving the chaotic scene behind, not wasting another second.

“I was gonna do that,” Ghost said from beside you, his footsteps nearly silent as he caught up with you. 

“Sorry that I, beat you to the punch,” you joked, feeling tickled with yourself even as your companion rolled his eyes behind his mask. 

“Does’at happen often?” Ghost asked, making you cock your head in confusion. “The cat-callin’ shit, I mean.”

“Oh! That? Umm, I don’t think so,” you answered with a shrug. “If it does, I don’t really notice it. It definitely happens to the other female soldiers, I know,” you revealed, grimacing at the thought. You liked to think your aggression was pretty well controlled, but sexist, abusive shit like that made you honestly see red, and you weren’t above teaching people that spewed that shit a lesson.

“Next time I see that shit, I’m makin’em do 200 push-ups, among other things,” he vowed, making you laugh in surprise.

“I’d pay to see that,” you nodded emphatically. “I’m surprised the very sight of you didn’t make them run off, usually that’s enough of a deterrent. The famous Ghost looking at anyone with death in his eyes,” you said, dropping your voice lower to imply seriousness, but your amused smile kind of ruined the attempt. 

“Mmm, must be particularly stupid,” he commented, which made you snort. 

“For sure,” you agreed, putting a hand on his arm and giving it a squeeze. “Anyways, thanks for having my back,” you smiled. 

“I know you can handle yourself,” he started, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. “I just—”

“I know you don’t think I’m weak or anything,” you interrupted, giving him a kind, knowing smile. “Because, who’s hot? Me. Who’s dangerous? Me. I’m hot and dangerous,” you started to sing, making Ghost let out a long suffering sigh, which only made you laugh yourself silly. “Hah, but still, it’s nice knowing you care so much,” you said once you were done giggling. “I’d do the same for you, anytime, okay?”

“I wouldn’t need the help,” he stated, making you roll your eyes at his posturing. “But… thanks.”

“Anytime, Ghost,” you grinned, reaching your hand up to press a finger against his jaw for a brief moment, then pulled away and practically skipped ahead of him. “I think Soap and Gaz are in the cafe! Let’s grab some food, yeah? I’m starving.”

.

Stray animals weren’t a foreign concept to you, especially in this line of work. You’d almost always find some animals hanging around whatever base you were stationed at, whether they be domesticated animals or wild ones, and you always tried to befriend them. You could only stand to be around your task force when they were brooding and serious for so long, and you needed something cute and furry to prevent you from going insane. Thankfully (but also sadly), the stray animals were never hard to come by, and you were armed with the most useful tool of all: food.

“Doggie! C’mere widdle baby! Come’ere!” you cooed, holding out your hand to the scrawny looking dog. You had been eating outside, needing a break from the headache caused by Price’s pungent cigar smoke. You needed to think of a way to not-so-subtly mentally scar him so he wouldn’t smoke around you anymore, but that was a work in progress. Outside, away from the tent and all the people, a few scavenging animals lingered, and this, of course, caught your attention immediately. 

“Hiiiii sweetie,” you squealed, your voice higher than a kid on helium as you squatted low to the ground, trying to make yourself smaller and less frightening. “C’mere! C’mere baby!” you encouraged the nearest dog, holding out a piece of lunch meat from your soggy sandwich. You figured the dog would enjoy it more than you did. You watched with bated breath as the dog inched forward, stretching her neck out as far as she could to stay as far away from you as possible. You pushed the meat out further between your fingers to better reach the dog, who immediately snatched the food from your grasp. You continued to pick at your sandwich, alternating between feeding yourself and the dog that was hanging around you. Slowly, the dog hung around more and more, looking a little less nervous the more time you spent together. You made sure to talk in a soft, sweet voice, piling on the praise whenever she stood just a bit closer than last time. You even got a little tail wag out of her, which made you elated. 

Suddenly, the dog bolted away, and the next thing you knew, you were being picked up by someone, dropping your sandwich in the fray.

“Hey what the fuck?!” you squawked, flailing around in the awkward hold you’d been put in, with your knees hugged to your chest. “Pu’me down!”

“I fuckin’ told ya not ta pet the animals!” Price scolded as he carried you back to the tent you were all resting in.

“I wanted to be her friend!” you protested, trying to struggle out of his grasp, even though the dog was long gone. 

“You’re gonna get bit that way,” he reminded you, making you roll your eyes. 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take, okay?” you insisted unapologetically.

“She try’an catch another animal?” Soap asked as you were placed in a fold up chair, almost falling out of it. “What was it this time?”

“ ‘nother dog,” Price grunted as you slouched in your seat as you stared up at the ceiling of the tent. “And I’ve told’er to quit over an’ over again,” he added pointedly, hands on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“How the hell can you honestly look me in the face and tell me to not try and pet any animal I find? It’s not like people are just out walking their dogs, when am I gonna get another chance?” you asked.

“These aren’t people’s pets, they’re feral animals, they got diseases,” Gaz pointed out, though you were unwavering in your position. 

“They’re only trying to survive, that doesn’t make them bad! I bet with a little food and love, they’d be great companions,” you argued. “I am one hundred percent positive that you all would be much happier if we had an animal around. A dog, a cat, hell! Even a rat!” you exclaimed with a large gesture of your arms. “Rats can be trained to do all sorts of things for the military, pigeons too! Did you know pigeons were domesticated? It’s so sad to see them just loose everywhere when they don’t have the survival instincts.”

“Tch, seem fine enough to me, damn rats with wings,” Ghost grumbled, making you gasp in shock. 

“Don’t say that! They’re wonderful! I love them so much!” you argued, pouting at your Lieutenant. “Plus, pigeons have been used in military operations before, it’s super cool! Not exactly drowning in pigeons here, but there’s plenty of dogs to befriend! And they’re so cute!” you gushed, stomping your feet and feeling like a little kid. “I mean, they could all use a good bath, but if it doesn’t stop me from loving you guys, it won’t stop me from loving them,” you grinned, your comment earning you a few betrayed looks.

“Think you could try and focus on the task at hand, rather than a bunch of mutts?” Ghost asked gruffly. 

“Why, jealous?” you asked, giving him an unamused stare. “Besides,” you went on, not waiting for an answer, “we’re not doing anything at the moment, literally why are we here?”

“We’re waiting on confirmation for a target’s location, then we’ll deploy,” Price explained, which was an only mildly satisfying answer. Actually, it wasn’t satisfying at all. 

“That could be hours or weeks,” you complained before pulling a disgruntled face. “And we’re literally surrounded by animals! I will never stop trying to befriend them, and you can’t make me stop!”

“Look lass, I understand the urge,” Soap said sympathetically, “but we can’t really afford to take any animals with us.”

“I can still make friends with them, we don’t have to take them anywhere,” you argued, even though you really really wanted to bring them back to base with you. Unfortunately, it’s unlikely you’d be able to do so, but you still wanted to give them love and affection whenever you could. Besides, you weren’t doing anything, and you wanted to pet some animals, and you didn’t know why the others were being such assbutts about it. Maybe they were just more on edge than you, or just suffering from toxic masculinity, but you weren’t about to let that stop you.

“Whatever you do, just stay close,” Price commanded sternly as you got up from your seat, heading back out of the tent. You waved your hand in acknowledgment as you ducked through the flap, leaving your team behind as you looked for more animals to pet. Oddly, you heard several footsteps behind you, and you turned around to see the entire task force following you. You didn’t think anything of it for a while, but they kept following you, even as you walked further and further away.

“You don’t need to follow me,” you chastised your group, who were hovering behind you, always a few feet away. 

“Just bein’ safe, mate,” Soap called out. You were about to chastise him, saying that there was nothing out there that would hurt you, when a dog appeared in your line of sight.

“Awe, lookit da liddle baby!” you squealed, your voice scratchy in the back of your throat as you let out an inhuman noise of excitement. In a shocking turn of events, the dog let you pet him, practically crawling into your lap and nuzzling into your hands. You were torn between crying and shrieking in delight, eagerly using your nails to scratch behind his ears and under his chin. The dog was wagging his tail happily between his legs, and soon began kissing you across the face. 

“Awe-hawe! He’s so — oh thank you! — so cute! I’m actually gonna cry,” you babbled, your heart and mind overwhelmed by the cuteness. “Who’s a handsome boy? Who’s a good, handsome boy?” you asked, making kissing noises to the dog as you continued to lavish him in affection. You couldn’t handle the cuteness, and the stinky dog breath didn’t even bother you that much!

“I wanna stop’er, but she looks so happy,” Soap said, probably to Price.

“Someone take a picture!” you practically squealed, looking between your teammates as you were assaulted with kisses, noticing they were all sitting on some nearby rocks. “Awe, t’ank you! T’ank you so much! Awe yes, you’re such a sweet, handsome boy! Yes you are, yes you are!” you gushed, feeling like a kid on Christmas. You weren’t exactly touched-starved, you were plenty touchy and feely with your team, but there was just something special and incomparable about cuddling with an animal. This was also the most eager and friendly stray you’d ever found, and it made you wonder if this dog had once been someone’s pet. 

“That’s a big boy right there,” Gaz commented as he inched closer in your peripheral. “An absolute unit.”

“He’s so cuuuuute,” you gushed, on the verge of actual tears as you loved on him. “Dad! Can I keep him? Pleeeeeease?” you asked, looking back at your Captain with eager eyes. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but you could see the amused little quirk of his mouth. 

“Where would we put’im?” he questioned, making you pout. 

“It’s not like we’re on top of each other, he can share the cot with me!” you insisted, desperately hoping to convince him. You weren’t short on food or water, and wouldn’t be for a while, and if you had to, you’d share your own rations!

“Better let it go, lass,” Soap chimed in, making you let out a sad whine of disappointment, and you went back to petting the dog to console yourself. You must have brushed your hand against an injury hidden under his fur, because the dog cried out and snapped his jaws around your hand as he thrashed out of your lap. 

“Ow!” you yelped as you jerked your hand back, spooking the dog further and making him run off, leaving you cradling your bloody hand. “No no no, don’t go!” you called after the dog as he scampered from sight, leaving you heartbroken. 

“Holy shit, y’alright?” Soap asked, coming to your side and taking your hand in his to inspect it, making you hiss through your teeth.

“Huh? Ah, yeah, I’m fine, I’m sure I just accidentally touched a sore spot for him, it was my fault,” you said, wincing at the way the Sergeant was poking at your wounds. You had a few tears, no more than a couple centimeters in length, but they were still bleeding quite a bit and you didn’t know how deep they went. 

“God, Ghost, take’er to the med tent,” Price grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a measured breath. “She’ll probably need stitches.”

“What? No, I can go myself,” you protested as Ghost marched over, grabbing you by the back of your vest and pulling you off the ground. He only set you down momentarily to scoop you up in both arms, allowing you to put pressure on your wounds while he carried you. You were honestly stunned silent for a moment, because there was absolutely no reason for him to be carrying you like this, or carry you at all, but like hell you were gonna complain about it. 

“I feel like a princess,” you joked as he walked towards the tent, kicking your dangling legs as you giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Fuck, you’re already delirious,” he said dryly, making you laugh again as he ducked into the tent.

“Do I even weigh anything to you?” you asked, only slightly curious over the answer.

“Nothin’ a’tall,” he said as he approached the only man present inside. 

“Hi Doc,” you greeted, waving to the man with a large red-cross patch on his arm as Ghost finally sent you down on your feet. You looked at his name patch, his name reading Durand. 

“Hi there,” he returned the greeting, looking between you and Ghost, probably wondering what the hell he was looking at. Huge, dark, intimidating Ghost carrying smaller, injured, friendly you, you two couldn’t be any more different. “What can I do for you?”

“She got bit by a stray dog,” he grunted as you walked forward, showing the doctor your injured hand, which had already scabbed over in some places. 

“It was my fault, I think he was injured and I touched a sore spot,” you explained, refusing to blame the pooch. 

“Maybe now you won’t try to pet strange animals,” Durand laughed, causing Ghost to scoff. 

“Unlikely,” he grumbled, making you shoot him a glare. 

“Well, life is short, and then you die,” you said, as if that explained away your behavior, which it did, thank you very much. Life was too short to not try and pet all the animals. And if it killed you? Well, at least you died doing what you loved. “Anyways, it’s not a big deal, just a few scratches!” you assured them both as the doctor guided you to a chair to sit in, the man taking the time to put on a pair of surgical gloves before taking your hand gently between his own. 

“There are plenty of bacteria that we need to worry about,” the doctor reminded you, making you laugh awkwardly. “Is this your dominant hand?”

“Nope! Thank God,” you groaned, wincing as the man poked at one of the puncture wounds. “So, what’s my prognosis, Doc?” you asked, looking at his intense expression. He was a good looking bloke, you had to admit; lovely dark skin and thick, nice looking brows, a strong jaw and full lips. You could hear him mumbling to himself under his breath as he inspected you, in a language that you recognized. 

“Are you French?” you asked, your French seeming to startle the man from his thoughts.

“Ah, yes, I am,” he answered, also in French, a smile spreading across his face. “Part of why I was stationed out here, even if there’s only a small local French population.”

“That makes sense, but I haven’t encountered too many civilians yet,” you slipped into the informal use of French and laughed as you watched him inspect you. “Nothing’s broken, I can tell that much,” you remarked. 

“I’m not too worried about that,” the doctor said with a shake of his head, “it will need stitches, unfortunately, and I’m worried about any puncturing of any—”

“Oi, what’re you two babbling about?” Ghost interrupted, making you both look up at him.

“Just discussing my injuries,” you revealed with a smile. “You don’t have to watch me anymore, I promise I’ll stay and get properly treated,” you assured him, playfully holding out your pinky to him, which he ignored. Rude. 

“I’m not leavin’ till I find out what’s wrong with ya,” he countered before turning his gaze to the doctor. “What’s happenin’? In English, if ya don’t mind,” he added in a clipped tone. 

“Ah, well, as I was explaining,” Durand cleared his throat, turning back to you as he spoke, “I’m worried about the teeth potentially having punctured your joints, which could become infected and necessitate surgery. In the worst case scenario, it could become necrotic and result in death of the tissue. At that point, we’d have to consider amputation.”

“I— it’s that serious?” you asked, surprised by the information. 

“It can be,” he nodded. “That’s the extreme end of it, but I’d still like you to stay after I stitch you up, just for a couple days, for observation.”

“You would,” Ghost grumbled, much to your confusion.

“Ah, you’ll need to keep your hand as clean as possible,” Durand went on, “and this is the most sterile environment we’ve got at the moment.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, resisting the urge to complain. Great, you were not looking forward to being confined to the medical tent, but a soldier was useless if they couldn’t use their hands. 

“Only a couple days at most, as long as your wounds look good and your stitches are healing well,” Durand reminded. “Then I think just one or two days of observation should do it. I know it seems like overkill, but the hand is a delicate area, better to be safe than sorry.”

“Yeah, right,” you nodded, trying to shake off your disappointment. “Well, on the bright side, I can use this time to brush up on my French,” you laughed, making the medic smile. “If you don’t mind putting up with me, that is, Doc.”

“Of course,” he chuckled, tossing away his gloves. “I always enjoy conversing with someone in my native tongue, especially someone as fluent as you.”

“I’m glad I still sound intelligible,” you joked before turning to your lieutenant. “Well Ghost, you know the situation. You can go tell the others about it all, yeah?” 

“You’ll be fine on your own?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at you.

“I’m not gonna be on my own,” you laughed, patting Durand on the shoulder as you smiled at Ghost. “But thanks for the concern,” you winked at him. The lieutenant looked between you and the doctor, clearly unhappy about something, but didn’t voice it. If anything, he was probably annoyed at you for getting hurt, but that was pretty normal for him. 

“I’ll be back,” he promised, sounding more like a threat, before turning and stalking out of the tent, leaving you alone with the doctor, who let out a shaky sigh as Ghost retreated.

“God, he’s a scary bastard, isn’t he?” Durand asked, his French only highlighting his emotions, making you snicker in amusement as he got out the supplies for your stitches. 

“He seems that way, yeah, but he’s not so bad,” you assured him with a grin, wincing slightly as he stuck you with some numbing. “God, sometimes he’ll wear just the skull balaclava with some sunglasses, and he looks like such a fucking dork. He can’t stand getting paper cuts, he’s terrified of snakes, and he tells really shitty dad jokes, a lot.”

“Really?” he scoffed as he prepared the sutures, clearly in disbelief about that idea. You definitely weren’t going to be watching him put the stitches in, you weren’t that hardcore.

“Yeah! Like, on a mission, he says, ‘two fish are in a tank. One turns to the other and says: you know how to drive this thing?’ On a mission!” you repeated emphatically, smiling at the memory of the first time Soap told you that story.

“No shit, really?” Durand balked, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards. 

“Really,” you laughed. “I’m just as bad, if I’m being honest, I have shit humor. Like, what do you call a fast zombie? A zoom-bie!” you revealed, laughing a little too hard at such a terrible joke. “Honestly, I think the guys all take themselves so seriously, they try too hard to be cool.”

“It must be quite difficult for you,” the doctor said as he finished with one of your gashes, nodding along in sympathy. 

“Well, not really, if I’m being honest,” you shrugged. “They’re all really good guys, and we all work well together, they’re the best team I’ve ever worked with. I joke that we’re all like a big family; Price, my Captain, is the dad, my sergeants are my older brothers, Ghost is the dog, and I’m the problem child.”

“Then I would say you are quite lucky,” he amended, smile widening and brown eyes twinkling in amusement. 

“Oh yeah, definitely. Er, sorry in advance, by the way, they’ll probably all come in and want to keep me company at some point,” you apologized. “Just let me know if they’re getting in the way, I’ll kick them out. 

“Are they all as scary as that one?” Durand asked, referring to Ghost.

“No, don’t worry, the others are much more sociable,” you promised. 

“Hey!” Gaz called out, making you turn. Speak of the devil!

“Gaz!” you called back, waving your good hand as he walked over. “Did’ja miss me?”

“For the less than ten minutes you’ve been gone? Of course,” he grinned, reaching out to ruffle your hair as he nudged you over in your cot, forcing you two to share the space, which you didn’t mind. 

“Just in time,” the doctor chuckled, finishing tying the last stitch. “Another teammate?” he asked, making the two of you turn. 

“Yeah, this is Gaz, I promise he won’t try and bite your head off,” you joked, making the doctor chuckle.

“Um, I’m right here,” Gaz said, looking put out by you two talking in a language he couldn’t understand. 

“Sorry Gaz,” you apologized, patting him on the cheek. “This is Doctor Durand, he’ll be torturing— I mean, looking after me,” you joked, making both men laugh in response. 

“Pleased to meet you,” the Doctor smiled at Gaz, who gave him a casual, two-fingered salute. 

“You too, Doc,” your teammate replied before his expression hardened. “Now take care of’er, or else.”

“Don’t you start with that, you dickhead,” you reprimanded, biting him on the shoulder in a way that made him jerk back to get away from you, which almost caused him to fall off the cot. “He’s just joking, ignore him.”

“Right,” he nodded as he got out some gauze, looking like he didn’t believe you. 

“I swear, you’re all such drama queens, I’m gonna be just fine!” you insisted, holding your hand out so it could be wrapped up. “So quit causing problems for everyone, will ya?”

“Hey, when it comes to your safety, we’re not gonna take any chances,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he pulled you into his side, giving your upper arm a squeeze. “You’re the baby of the group, of course we’re gonna dote on ya’ a bit more!”

“You’re all such mother hens,” you brushed off, trying to ignore how your heart warmed at the thought of them caring for you so much. “Anyways! Wanna watch some true crime?” you asked, pulling out your phone and pulling up YouTube. You two squeezed together, your heads tucked close to one another as you stared at your tiny phone screen. You two began to argue about what you thought about the case you were looking at, who the killer might be, calling each other an idiot if you made a suggestion the other found preposterous. Even Doctor Durand came over from time to time, laughing at your antics and asking for updates whenever he had to leave the tent. 

“Man, imagine if we saw someone we knew on one of these things,” Gaz muttered under his breath. “Oh God, imagine Ghost! If I survived an encounter with him, that mask would haunt me for the rest of my life.”

“Oh please, he’s not that scary,” you dismissed with a shake of your head. Visually? Yeah, he could be pretty terrifying, but he was such an awkward dork that told such bad jokes that you couldn’t bring yourself to fear him all that much. Besides, his skull mask looked dorky from any angle other than looking at him head on. It was like he had a massive overbite. “Plus, that mask is probably super inconvenient, y’know?”

“You think he’s ugly under that thing?” Gaz asked in a conspiratorial whisper, brown eyes wide as he awaited your answer.

“Mm, nah, I don’t think so,” you answered with a shake of your head. “Why, worried?”

“What? No,” he sputtered, making your grin widen. “I just can’t believe so many people on base find him more attractive than me.”

“…what, have you asked a lot of people?” you asked, confused and a little baffled.

“No, but, I can just tell,” he insisted, still not looking at you. 

“Don’t let it bother you, mate. You’re a good looking guy, Gaz! No homo,” you said, making him look at you like he wanted to knock you on your ass, and you couldn’t help but cackle. 

“Okay, I know for a fact that you’re,” he cut himself off and did the gay hand™, which only made you laugh harder, “second, you’re a lass, there’s nothing gay about that!”

“I mean, as long as we keep our socks on, yeah,” you said through your laughter, wiggling your eyebrows at your teammate, who threw his head back and groaned dramatically. 

“I hate you,” he muttered, making you elbow his side. 

“Oh shut up, you love me,” you asserted confidently. “God, I can’t feel my hand at all. Maybe we can play the knife game now! I wouldn’t feel a thing,” you said excitedly.

“That’d be worse than the time you tried explaining what the omegaverse was to Price when you were wasted,” Gaz pointed out, which made you keel over with obnoxious, wheezing laughter. 

“You behavin’ in here?” Price asked as he sauntered over to you, making you perk up. Again, speak of the devil!

“Dad!” you cried, throwing your arms up in the air as Gaz did the same. The Captain rolled his eyes as he approached you two. “You are my daaad,” you began to sing, Gaz quickly joining you.

“You’re my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!” you two sang, making Price drag a hand down his face as you both laughed. 

“I’m gonna wring both your necks,” the Captain threatened, reaching out to cuff Gaz on the back of the head.

“Oi! Why me?” he protested.

“You was closer,” the older male shrugged before looking around the tent. “Where’s that Doctor fellow? Ghost said there was something off about ‘im.”

“You lot probably scared him off,” you chastised with a grimace. “There’s nothing wrong with Doctor Durand, Ghost’s just salty because we were speaking French together and he didn’t understand,” you explained with a roll of your eyes. 

“So he was—,” Gaz began, looking up at Price, who nodded. 

“Yup,” he sighed, looking tired. You looked between them in confusion, unsure of what they were talking about, but deciding you didn’t care enough. “Anyways, how you doin’, kid?”

“Doin’ good, boss,” you saluted him as he came to your side of the cot, fondly ruffling your hair. 

“Heard they’re keeping you for observation,” he went on, looking around for a nearby chair to sit on. 

“Yeah, Doc’s worried about my joints getting punctured, infected and that,” you shrugged, looking down at your bandaged hand. “Thankfully, the painkillers are great,” you joked, giving the Captain a thumbs up. 

“Awe, our little druggie,” Gaz teased, making you punch him in the side. “Ow! You bitch!”

“Oi, watch your mouth,” Price snapped, making you laugh at the offended look on Gaz’s face.

“Oh, so she can call us names, but I can’t?” he asked, his face wrinkled up in annoyance. “This is unfair.”

“It’s great to be the favorite child,” you laughed, looking to the Captain for confirmation. “Right, Dad?”

“No, I don’t have a favorite,” he insisted, making you feel betrayed.

“Dad, no!” you lamented as Gaz cheered. 

“Hah! Eat shit,” he boasted, prompting you to take his phone and throw it off the cot. “Oi!”

“Never let’em know your next move,” was all you said, dabbing to punctuate your statement. 

“What’s all this then?” Soap asked, making the three of you turn to see him and Ghost walking into the medical tent. 

“The painkillers makin’er loopy?” Ghost asked, standing at the end of your cot as he looked at Gaz. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Bein’ annoyin’,” you said without thought, making Gaz give you an affronted look. “What? It’s true.”

“Gaz, get up,” Price finally sighed, prompting the sergeant to finally climb out of the cot you were in and perch himself on the cot beside you. “You two can’t be trusted to be left alone together, remember the last time you tried pluckin’is eyebrows?” Price asked, making you, Gaz and Soap laugh at the memory. You’d taken to maintaining Gaz’s eyebrows, and you always insisted on sitting in his lap, but one time you two had started wrestling (as you were prone to do) and you ended up accidentally kneeing him in the head then falling out of the chair. Neither of you were seriously injured, but the rest of the team refused to let you live it down. You and Gaz began to argue that that situation wasn’t your fault, much to the amusement of your other teammates, when the Doctor walked over, causing the men in your group to go on alert. You didn’t mind that so much, being in the military and in your particular line of work meant you never stopped looking over your shoulder, but usually they still managed to keep a light hearted atmosphere. Now, however, their smiles fell into carefully neutral expressions as they all stood up straighter, trying to make themselves look bigger, which you found a little odd.

“I didn’t think there’d be so many,” Durand laughed in lieu of greeting, the sound coming off as slightly awkward as your team all stared at him. 

“Sorry, I know they’re clogging up the space,” you apologized to the Frenchman, trying to lighten the awkward atmosphere.

“Not like anyone else’s here,” Soap muttered to himself, earning him a glare. 

“Well, let’s not bother the Princess anymore,” Gaz joked, breaking the tension and wrapping an arm around Soap’s shoulder before looking to Price. “Best get going, eh, sir?”

“Mm,” the oldest man nodded, gesturing with his head to the entrance, causing Soap and Gaz to follow him. When Ghost didn’t move, Price stopped and looked back at him, confused. “Ghost?”

“I’m stayin’,” he declared, being met without objection. The Captain just shrugged and left, leaving you alone with Ghost and the Doctor, the latter of whom was being glared at by the former. 

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Durand laughed once again, scurrying off to give you and Ghost a semblance of privacy. 

“Geez Ghost, you don’t have to glare at the poor guy like that,” you laughed, patting the lieutenant on the shoulder. “He’s just trying to do his job, keep us alive and all that.”

“You’re not dying, he doesn’t need t’ fixate on you,” he argued, arms crossed over his chest. 

“You staying awhile?” you asked, smiling at him. “Sit,” you prompted, leaning forward and patting your cot. 

“You gonna give up on tryin’ to befriend every animal you see now?” he asked as he sat, making you scoff dramatically. 

“No chance in Hell, sir,” you laughed, making him huff out a breath. “If it kills me, it kills me,” you shrugged.

“You’re too reckless,” he huffed, shaking his head at you. “What if you get so hurt you can’t be fixed?” he asked, his voice softer than before.

“It comes with the territory,” you smiled gently, though you lacked the earlier playfulness. “But, I’m sorry I worried you.”

“M’not worried,” he insisted sharply, which you didn’t believe for a second, though you didn’t call him out on it. 

“Of course, L.T.,” you nodded, smiling at the large man. “Anyway, any update on when we’re heading out?”

“Negative, still lookin’ like it’ll be a few days,” he said simply, making you resist the urge to groan. 

“Well, I guess it’ll give me a few days to heal up,” you said optimistically. “I mean, it’s only been a few hours, but everything feels fine.”

“You’re on pain killers, you won’t be feeling anything,” he pointed out, which you waved off dismissively.

“Semantics,” you said, making him shake his head at you. 

“You’re a pain, y’know that?” he asked, his voice lacking any heat. 

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” you giggled, shooting him a wink, before letting out a yawn.

“Guess I’ll leave ya be then,” he grunted as he got to his feet. “I’ll come check on ya later, bring ya food.”

“Wait!” you called, making him stop. You waved him closer, he obliged, and you reached your hand out to press a finger against his jaw, smiling once you’d touched him. “Right, c’ya later, L.T.,” you waved, prompting him to turn and walk out of the tent. 

As he left, you noticed something odd. 

A small flower was left on your bed. It was only one flower, and it looked like one of the weeds that grew locally, but it made you smile nonetheless. You picked the flower up, gave it a little sniff, and smiled as you tucked it into your vest, planning to press it later so you could keep it, once you figured out how to do that. You never expected Ghost to be the flower giving type, but you weren’t about to complain.

.

“Okay, I’m going insane, can I please do something?” you begged, looking between Doctor Durand and your Captain. It had only been 24 hours, but you were so bored already. You knew that you could be deployed at any time, but had no idea when, and the anticipation was getting to you, only making your boredom worse. 

“Funnily enough, we have some laundry piling up that no one wants to deal with,” Price commented, making you shoot him an offended look.

“Okay one, that’s sooooooo sexist of you to suggest that I do the laundry,” you drawled, delighting in how Price’s eyes widened in panic. “Hah! Gotcha,” you laughed, dabbing repeatedly as your Captain cursed under his breath. “Anyways, yeah, I’ll do that, God knows when we’ll get another chance after I’m cleared and when we’re deployed.” It was one of the worst things about chasing after a target, the lack of hygiene. It couldn’t be helped, but still, it sucked. Hopefully, if your info was good and everything went according to plan, you’d be back at base soon, but shit happens. 

So that’s how you found yourself carrying a bag of your team’s dirty laundry to the closest source of water. You headed towards a small river that you deemed clean enough to wash clothes in. You weren’t going to get them super pristine, but at least most of the gunk and grossness would be gone. You began to sort through the laundry, doing your best to sort out each person’s clothes in a pile. It was made a little easier to look at the rank patches on the shirts and check the sizes on the pants, but there were definitely articles you had a hard time telling who owned it. Ghost was pretty easy, seeing as he was the biggest, but all of them had the same flag on their clothing, and while it had never bothered you before, it sure did now. You all had been out for only a few days (you weren’t sure why you couldn’t stay on base until you got an update, but you weren’t the captain) but they still went through a decent amount of clothing. Still, better to have another clean set of clothes than carry around something dirty.

Approaching footsteps made you look up, hand reaching for your gun on impulse, but relaxed when you saw who was coming. 

“Oh, hey Ghost!” you greeted, surprised but happy to see him there. “What’re you doing here?”

“Came t’keep an eye on you,” he grunted as he knelt down beside you. 

“I think you just wanna spend time with me,” you grinned cheekily, reaching over to press your finger into his jaw, making him let out a little huff of exasperation. That was as far as his laugh went, but you found it rather charming, and you could imagine an exasperated little smile under his mask. You wanted to see it one day, if you were lucky enough, but you weren’t going to press him on it. “I’m not complaining, I like spending time with you too,” you said honestly, watching as he blinked at you in surprise before finally looking away.

“You’re a weird fuckin’ bird,” he said, embarrassed. 

“Can’t argue with that,” you agreed, keeping your amusement to yourself. Despite Ghost being an absolute unit of a man, he could be surprisingly cute at times. You’ve told him so on a small handful of occasions, and it never failed to make him flustered. It would be hard to see if you didn’t know him, but you could see it clear as day. It felt nice, being able to have moments like this with him, it made you feel like a kid again. “So, are you gonna help me or just loom over me menacingly?” you asked, making him yank off his gloves, roll up his sleeves, and grab a shirt out of the pile.

“I bet you’re shit at this,” he complained as he began to wash the shirt, making you audibly squawk in indignation. 

“Hey— what makes you say that!?” you asked, getting close to him and staring him in the face.

“I’ve been doing it longer than you,” he said simply, making you roll your eyes. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m shit at it, asshole,” you insisted, sticking your tongue out at him. 

“It’s pronounced arsehole,” he corrected you obnoxiously, making you dip your hand into the water and splash him with it. You two stared at each other afterwards, waiting for the other to make the first move, before you began to laugh, unable to take it anymore. 

“You’re such a dick,” you laughed, turning back to the task at hand. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

“Scary dog privilege, wasn’t it?” he speculated, startling a laugh out of you as you nodded. 

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” you agreed in amusement. “I mean, I could recruit Soap or Gaz, but they don’t have the same presence as you do,” you shrugged, reaching out to grab another piece of clothing. As was typical between you two, you began to talk as Ghost stayed silent, only occasionally nodding or humming at what you said. You pointed out things that caught your attention, like animals coming to drink, birds flying by, fish swimming in the water, all sorts of mundane things that fascinated you. You knew that Ghost didn’t really care about that sort of thing, as it wasn’t important enough to even acknowledge, but he didn’t say a word to you. As you continued to wash the clothes, the soap seemed to slip out of Ghost’s hands, landing in the water with a small splash.

“Oh bollocks,” he complained with a grunt as he snagged it from the water, making you snicker in amusement. 

“Bollocks,” you repeated in a strange imitation of his voice, laughing at yourself afterwards, amused. “God, you’re so fucking British, that’s so embarrassing for you. Being British? Couldn’t be me.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” he asked, making you shrug as you smiled wide, delighting in how utterly confused and annoyed he looked. 

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” you brushed off, patting him on the shoulder in a mildly condescending manner before going back to the washing. Once you were done with the shirts, you moved on to the pants and vests. You made it a habit of going through all pockets, just in case someone was keeping something in there that couldn’t or shouldn’t get wet. Was it your responsibility to make sure the others didn’t have shit in their pockets? No, but you still wanted to do it anyway, because you and your team had enough on your plates, you didn’t need things getting ruined by being absent-minded. You grabbed one of the vests, Ghost’s, by the look of it, and began to methodically check inside the pockets, when you noticed something odd. 

“Why are all these rocks in your vest?” you asked, opening up the pocket wider to see more were inside. 

Ghost ripped the vest away from you, embarrassed, refusing to make eye contact as he proceeded to clean it himself.

“Are those all the rocks I’ve given you?” you asked, inching closer to him as you tried to look him in the eyes, though he still avoided looking at you. “Well? Are they?” you asked again, your grin widening. 

“No, this’s Soap’s fuckin vest,” he lied, making you roll your eyes dramatically.

“Okay, first off, Soap never uses his chest pockets,” you pointed out. “And second, this vest is way way bigger than any of Soap’s, and you’re the biggest bastard on our team! So, it’s yours,” you deduced, making the man beside you stare blankly at the river. You smiled in delight to yourself, your heart fluttering a bit as you realized he’d kept all the rocks you’d given him. You scooted closer and awkwardly wrapped your arms around his body, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, though didn’t try to break from your hold.

“Uh, I’m hugging you, what do you think I’m doing?” you laughed, shaking your head in fond amusement.

“I know that, little shit, but why?” he clarified.

“Because you’re cute,” you answered truthfully, leaning back to ‘boop’ him on the nose. “C’mon, let’s hurry this up and get back to the camp, yeah? Before someone thinks we’re doing something naughty,” you teased, making him push you so hard that you almost fell into the river. 

“I’m gonna throw you in,” he threatened, and you decided to stop teasing him. You both finished the rest of the washing in mostly amicable silence, with you singing or humming to yourself. You finished up quick enough and headed back, carrying the laundry basket on your back as you walked together, enjoying the quiet ambiance.

.

You were in a humvee a few days later, off to the nearest town to close in on your target, and you were in a pretty good mood. Your hand was healing up really well, and you were cleared to return to duty once more. The guys seemed happy too, even letting you ride shotgun without any argument while Price drove. The car ride was mostly filled with idle chatter between yourself, Soap and Gaz, with occasional commentary from Price, while Ghost remained mostly silent. You were all dressed in civvies, to better blend in with the crowds and not garner too much attention, as you didn’t exactly want to make your military presence known. You could see the city getting closer and closer, and you began to encounter more and more civilians milling about the streets. 

“Right, our target is supposedly working solo, but be on your guard,” Price warned as he parked the car, the lot of you hopping out. You reached for the door handle and opened the door, only to have Gaz close it on you.

“Wait, can’t let the Princess open her own door,” Gaz called sarcastically, quickly getting out and opening your door for you with a shit-eating grin on his face, bowing to you with a dramatic flourish. 

“Piss off, you dip-diddly dumb fuck,” you laughed, lunging at him as soon as your feet touched the gravel covered ground to punch him in the arm, the two of you dancing away from the car as you chased him for a few second. “I’ll knock you on your ass,” you threatened playfully. 

“Careful there lassie, don’t get too carried away,” Soap chuckled, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Sorry, I’m just in a silly, goofy mood,” you shrugged, making Soap and Gaz laugh as Price and Ghost sighed. You actually were in a pretty good mood, probably because you were finally out of the med tent and actually getting to work, doing what you were actually being paid to do. Besides, the town you were meeting in was quite charming, with lots of people walking around and loads of shops open. You tried not to get distracted, you were working, after all, but you couldn’t help but wish you weren’t here just for work. Maybe one day. 

You made your way to the house that your target was supposed to be inside, and split into groups. Soap scaled the building and entered from the top while Ghost and Price went inside to meet him in the middle, with you and Gaz posted outside in case he tried to make an escape. It was supposed to be easy, easier than most target captures, but unfortunately, things didn’t go to plan.

“Cleared, no one inside,” Soap said, his voice tinny in your ear. 

“Dammit! Bastard’s not’ere,” Price cursed over the comms, and you hissed in disappointment under your breath. Now you’d have to chase after the bugger, but thankfully, the owner of the house he’d been staying at seemed to have some information. It didn’t seem like he’d been tipped off by anyone, nor was your information bad, he was just squirrelly, paranoid and a bit unpredictable, making it so he never wanted to stay in one place for too long. From what the homeowner said, he was running on empty, low on funds, food and sleep, so it should be easy enough to catch him. Price rounded you all up and headed for the humvee to make a quick stop at the camp to grab supplies and head out immediately after the target. He couldn’t have gone far, especially with the target allegedly being near his wits end. Still, it didn’t make the upcoming chase any less aggravating. 

Soap seemed a little optimistic however, or at least he seemed to still be in a good mood, because he zipped in front of you and jumped into the front passenger seat. You flipped the Scotsman off, unable to repress the smirk that spread across your face as you shared a laugh with your teammate. You reached for the handle of the back car door, when you were practically shoved out of the way, and you had to jump back to avoid getting smacked by the car door as it was yanked open. You looked back and saw that Ghost was standing there, staring down at you expectantly. 

“Whaaaat are you doing?” you asked, cocking your head at the lieutenant. 

“Shut up and get inside,” he barked, kicking your foot with his own. You wanted to argue, but you were in a bit of a rush, so you did as he said and climbed into the car. Ghost slid in behind you, slamming the door shut, and didn’t say anything, even as you stared at him. You were trying to figure out why he did that, especially when your injuries were pretty much all healed up. Never before had he given you that sort of special treatment, he never had a reason to, so you were pretty confused. Sure, it wasn’t a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, but with Ghost pointedly ignoring you after acting so out of character, your mind couldn’t help but race for an answer. 

Gaz had opened the door for you earlier, did that have something to do with it?

No way… no fucking way.

Your eyes widened as a smile spread across your face, absolutely tickled by the internal revelation. 

“Were you mad because Gaz opened the door for me?” you asked, eager for a response. You could be wrong. You liked to tease and not-so-subtly flirt with him, but that didn’t mean he felt the same. Sure, the flower he indirectly gave you and the knowledge that he kept the rocks you gave him made you think he was at least fond of you, (not to mention your little jaw touching habit that he reciprocated) but maybe he just saw you as a friend. 

Ghost didn’t respond to you, still purposefully avoiding your gaze, and you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew what was going on.

.

Making it back to base was an absolute relief to you; no more wearing dirty ass clothing and digging latrines, you finally had a proper roof over your heads. The man you’d been after had been captured, being handed off to some on base security guards to be interrogated by a different team, meaning your job was done.

“Enjoy the night in a proper bed you lot, we’ll be leaving tomorrow after debriefing, at 0900 hours,” Price announced before immediately walking off, probably deciding to hit the hay. That sounded like an excellent idea to you, crashing in bed after a proper, warm shower.

“Aaaha, an actual bed,” you cheered tiredly, your excitement echoed by Gaz. 

“After a week roughing it, yeah, I’m ready for a proper bed,” he groaned, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Yep, after a shower, I’m heading straight to my pillow,” you grinned. 

“Come now!” Soap called as he ran up behind you and Gaz, throwing his arms across both of your shoulders and pulling you close. He absolutely reeked, but no more than you did. “Let’s go for a pint! We deserve it,” he said, looking between you two. “What say you two?”

“Sorry dude, I’m like, bone tired,” you declined with only a twinge of guilt. “Another time though, I promise.”

“Awe. Gaz?” he asked, turning to the younger man, who seemed to be contemplating it. 

“Let me shower first, then I’m yours,” Gaz finally agreed, holding up a fist to Soap, who took his arm off of you to fist bump him. You smiled as you watched the two of them, amused by their antics, when you looked behind you to see Ghost, walking on his own. You slowed your walking until he was beside you, grinning up at the lieutenant once you were in step. 

“You gonna have a drink with Gaz and Soap, L.T.?” you asked, to which he shook his head. 

“You?”

“Nah, I’m too tired tonight,” you waved off, letting out a well timed yawn. “Another time, but for now, I need to sleep,” you said with a groan, walking away with a wave to your lieutenant. “C’ya in the morning, Ghost,” you bid as you walked away, only focused on the shower you so desperately needed. 

Your shower was like heaven after a whole week out on the road, and your yawning only increased in frequency as you rid your body of all the dirt you’d collected. The warm water was making you even more tired, and you scrubbed yourself raw as fast as you could so you could dry off, put on your pj’s and be dead to the world for the next 10 hours. That sounded like the perfect way to spend your evening.

-

“Shit,” you panted, hanging your head in your hands as you took a few deep, shuddering breaths. A few moments ago, you’d woken up in a panic, your skin covered in sweat and your heart pounding like a drum. God, you hated getting PTSD nightmares, they were the absolute fucking worst. It made your heart beat so hard and fast that it was painful, and you feared it would burst out of your chest. Your skin was clammy and over sensitive, making your brain fry and unable to calm down. 

You really wanted to see Ghost.

This thought made you calm down for a moment, a sense of clarity washing over you as you pictured your teammate. Impulsively, you decided you were going to see him, and this new objective gave your brain something to focus on instead of how anxious you felt. Blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you quietly slipped out of your room and made your way down the hall, your sock-covered feet making no noise on the concrete floor. His room wasn’t far, so your trip was short, but you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder as you knocked on his door. He didn’t answer, and you tried to turn the handle. You were half expecting it to be locked, but to your shock, it wasn’t, and you didn’t hesitate to open it just enough to poke your head inside.

“Ghost?” you asked softly, words almost a hiss. You know he’s awake, and he grunted in response, but otherwise didn’t react. “I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you?” You felt like a child, but if you had that nightmare again, waking up to a familiar face (mask) would surely ease your nerves. Plus, you wanted an excuse to share a bed with your favorite lieutenant. He sighed again, and since he wasn’t vehemently telling you to fuck off, you took that as permission for you to come inside. 

“Did I wake you?” you asked as you entered his room, closing the door behind yourself and locking it, just in case. 

“Wasn' sleepin’,” he grumbled, not moving as you approached his bedside. Without invitation, you laid down on top of him, blanket and all, making him let out a noise of confusion. 

“Mmm, you’re comfy,” you murmured, already feeling your nightmares being chased away. You sighed as you felt your cheek smush against his warm chest, able to hear the beating of his heart, and you pulled the blanket you’d brought with you tightly around yourself to get more comfortable. He sighed again, clearly exasperated with you, before laying a hand on your back, slowly rubbing his thumb against you. You let out a content sigh and snuggled even closer to him, that nauseous pit in your stomach being alleviated slightly. 

“Do you… wanna talk about your nightmare?” he asked, the words coming out awkwardly, which was almost enough to make you laugh. 

“No, thank you, it wasn’t the worst one I’ve had,” you shrugged, touched by his concern, “not even top ten.”

“Then why’re you here?” he asked with a huff of dry amusement. 

“Do I need a reason?” you countered, smiling into his chest. “Maybe I just wanna spend time with you. Is that so wrong?”

“Hmm,” was all he responded with, continuing to rub his thumb against your back. You let out a content sigh as you focused on his touch, trying to memorize how he felt against your body. You were tired, but your brain still couldn’t calm down, though it wasn’t racing as it had been before. You needed something else to focus on, so you began to talk. 

“What would you want to do? If you didn’t have the limitations of this job?” you asked out of curiosity. “I’ve always wanted to get my nails done. Like, at a fancy, professional place and get a really nice, pretty, expensive, glittery set. We’re not allowed to wear nail polish while on duty, and getting anything really nice or long would be impractical for work, but still. I think it’d be nice… I also wanna get some real plants some day, maybe when I retire. I wanna dress up for Halloween and give out candy to kids, and get a pet so I have someone to come home to.” Silence lapsed over you again, and you almost decided to just try and fall asleep, before Ghost spoke. 

“Always wanted to go to a county fair,” he said, his voice rumbling beneath you, sort of reminding you of a motorcycle. “Never been to one, only seen’em in those American films, but they seemed… fun.”

“Ah, I haven’t been to a county fair in years,” you reminisced, a smile coming to your face. “God, I can already feel my fingers getting greasy just thinking about the fair food, but it’s in a good way. A good type of gross, y’know?”

“Sure,” he said, amusement underlying his tone. He seemed content to stay silent, which didn’t surprise you, but then he spoke again. “I’ve wanted you t’call me Simon again.”

“Huh? Really?” you asked, lifting your head to look down at him. “I mean, I will, sorry, I just didn’t expect that,” you added with a little laugh. “Any reason why?” He averted his gaze at the question, and you decided to lay your head back down on his chest, sensing he was feeling a bit embarrassed. How could he ever possibly deny that he was cute? 

“No reason,” he asserted with a grumble, though you felt his hand make it’s way up to your chin, pressing a finger against your jaw in a way that made you smile.

“If you say so, Simon,” you smiled, feeling the way his heart was hammering in his chest. “Oh my God, I’m going to make so many ‘Simon says’ jokes now,” you cackled quietly, making him let out a long-suffering sigh. 

“I take it back, don’t call me Simon,” he muttered, making your shit-eating grin widen.

“Simon says don’t call me Simon?” you prodded, making him pinch you in the arm, which caused you to squeal in surprise and pain. You bit his collarbone in retaliation, and he only pinched you harder. “Ow! Okay okay, I won’t make that joke,” you promised, “not often, anyways.”

Silence fell again, and maybe you were delirious from exhaustion, maybe you were playing with fire, but that never stopped you from opening your mouth.

“Sometimes I imagine what it’d be like living together,” you admitted. “I mean, I just think it’s funny, imagining you doing normal things. Like, paying taxes, or mowing a lawn; getting groceries or putting shelves together.”

“Why’s that so funny t’you?” he asked, making you shrug. 

“Dunno, maybe because you’re a massive dude, you look even bigger with all the gear on, plus your skull mask,” you rambled, “and I know, I know that you wouldn’t wear that while off duty, on leave and all, but still! It’s just so funny to think about,” you laughed, reaching down for his other hand. You began playing with his fingers, which were big and warm in your grasp, brushing over the dozens of scars that you could only imagine how he got. 

“If I lived with you, would you make me breakfast?” he wondered, making you snort.

“Why do you assume I’ll be making you breakfast? Why don’t you make me breakfast?” you asked haughtily, arguing just to be a pain. 

“I’m a shit cook,” he answered simply. 

“You’re not even gonna try for me? How rude,” you bemoaned, grinning to yourself. His chest shook with silent laughter, and you couldn’t help your smile. Silence passed once more, when Simon asked you something, his fingers tightening around yours.

“You’re not gonna ask me t’take off my mask?” he asked, making you arch a brow at him in confusion. 

“No? Why would I?” you asked, suppressing the urge to laugh incredulously at the question. 

“Most people do,” he answered simply. 

“Well, I figured you would take it off if you felt like you wanted to,” you shrugged. Sure, you were curious, but you knew how protective he was about his identity, and you didn’t want to push his boundaries. “Plus, there’s something really sexy about the mask.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, making you choke down a laugh. 

“Don’t get me wrong, it can look goofy as hell sometimes, but still, there’s something appealing about it, in the right setting,” you elaborated, smiling into your hand. 

“That makes me feel better,” he complained. 

“I mean, have you seen your profile? The mask gives you a massive fucking overbite, it looks absolutely hilarious,” you told him, barely containing your laughter. “Like, imagine if your skull was actually shaped like that? You’d be saying shit like Foap,” you said, putting a hand over your mouth as you snorted from laughter. The image was just too funny. “Foap! Do you cofy?” you went on , trying to smother your wheezy laugh.

“I’m gonna murder you,” he threatened, though you could tell he was just saying it to say it. 

“Sure thing, Simon, you do that,” you dismissed, yawning once again. “Right, I’ll stop talking.”

“A miracle,” he drawled, making you grin. 

“Shut up,” you laughed lightly, before whispering, “good night, Simon.”

He didn’t reply, but he still kept a hand pressed securely against your back as you fell asleep.

.

When you woke up the next morning, you didn’t really feel out of place. You were used to waking up in loads of different places, and the base’s private quarters were all pretty much identical, but you did briefly forget you’d spent the night with someone, which left you confused. Then you remembered, and suddenly you really, really didn’t want to get out of bed. 

“Good morning, Gh— Simon,” you corrected, stretching your arms out above your head. “What time is it?” you asked as you climbed out of the empty bed. Simon was already standing up and getting dressed, adjusting his gloves with his back to you. 

“0730,” he informed you, making you nod. 

“Great,” you groaned as you stretched again, looking down at your clothes. You were wearing typical nightclothes, but now you were faced with the dilemma of having to go back to your own room in them, in broad daylight. “See you soon,” you said as you wrapped yourself up in your blanket, slipping out of his room and making a mad dash for your own, your blanket billowing around you like a cape. You made it without issue, and began to methodically get dressed in your more casual gear as you packed up your things. You didn’t have much, of course, you rarely carried much with you while deployed, so it didn’t take long for you to finish packing. Once you were done, you set your bag in the corner and intended on heading to the debriefing room, when you noticed Simon leaning against the wall opposite your room. 

“Bout time you got out,” he complained as he pushed off the wall and walked beside you.

“Didn’t know you were waiting for me,” you defended with a small smile. It was now 0820 hours, meaning you had a bit of time before the debriefing. “Grab a bite to eat then head out?” you suggested, receiving a nod in response. You made your way to the canteen to grab yourselves a light breakfast. You snagged a sad looking muffin while Simon grabbed a granola bar, which made you want to chastise him, because a big guy like him really needed more to eat. On your way out of the canteen, you noticed the group of privates that had bothered you a few weeks ago, recognizing the one you punched by the dark bruise still colouring the bridge of his crooked nose. Their eyes landed on you and Simon, which made them go pale and take off in a panic without a word, leaving no trace behind. 

“Damn, I don’t think we’re that scary,” you said, taking a bite of your muffin and looking at the lieutenant. “Did’ju do somethin’?” you asked, suspicious of his refusal to look at you. 

“Just thought we’d teach’em some manners,” he shrugged cryptically, making you narrow your eyes. 

“We?” you repeated. 

“Me, Johnny, Gaz an’ the captain,” he clarified, making your eyes widen in surprise. 

“No shit, really?” you asked, mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“Like I said, needed t’be taught some manners,” he shrugged as you arrived at the designated meeting room, not even bothering to explain further. You smiled as Simon made a beeline for the tea, thinking to yourself that he was so aggressively British, but it was endearing to see him act so normal.

“Mornin’ you two!” Soap greeted as he walked into the room, looking bright eyed and bushy tailed, as usual. “Sleep well?” he asked.

“Best sleep I’ve had in years,” Simon murmured, looking down into his tea cup. You didn’t bother suppressing your smile, though you did turn away to hide it from the others. 

“Oh, that’s good,” Soap smiled before pinching a bit of your muffin. 

“Hey! Thief,” you scolded as you turned and hunched protectively over your muffin, baring your teeth at him as he tried to get another nibble. “Get your own muffin.” You ran over to Simon for protection.

“Oh, so it’s fine when you do it, but not me?” Soap asked as he tried to chase you around the bulky lieutenant, who did not look amused, before he backed off. You grinned victoriously to yourself and practically shoved the rest of the muffin into your mouth, swallowing just as Gaz was walking into the room.

“Mornin’ Gaz,” you greeted your teammate, who looked a little worse for wear. “Ah, you alright there, man?”

“Drank more than I should’ave last night,” he revealed, making you wince in sympathy. 

“Oof, cowa-fucking-bummer dude,” you said with a shake of your head as Price entered the room behind him. “Mornin’, sir,” you greeted the Captain, who smelled heavily of cigar smoke. Guess he smoked in lieu of a proper breakfast. He grunted back in acknowledgment before diving right into the debriefing. It went on as all the ones before it, Price congratulating you all on a job well done, going over what you’d recovered, etcetera etcetera.

“Also,” Price said, clearing his throat in that gross way only dads seem to manage to do. “With the rain, our departure will be delayed until at least tomorrow, 0900 hours, dismissed,” he finished, turning and leaving the room. Gaz left quickly, probably to sleep off his hangover, and Soap left to go work out, leaving you alone with your lieutenant.

“Hey, so,” you began, smiling up at Simon, “since we’ve basically got the whole day to ourselves… wanna go into town with me?”

“Pardon?” he asked, seemingly caught off guard. 

“I mean, I know you didn’t promise me anything, but I figured, since we have the time now, we could hang out a bit! Off base,” you laughed, suddenly feeling just a little awkward and nervous. “If you’re not busy, of course.”

He stared at you for a moment before letting out a little huff of amusement. 

“Sure, we can go out,” he agreed, making you smile once more, wider than you had before. 

“So, it’s a date?” you suggested tentatively, knowing you were pushing your luck. 

“Outside at 1000 hours, be ready,” he called as he left, leaving you alone. Once the door was closed you jumped for joy and pumped your fists in the air as you ran a few laps around the table, getting out the nervous energy you had inside. After getting that out, you booked it to your room and began digging through your bag for your nicest clothing. You didn’t have much, just some jeans, a t-shirt and a shawl to go over it, but it was better than nothing. 

It was raining pretty damn hard when you met Simon at the front of the base, where he was keeping himself busy by smoking a cigarette. He was wearing jeans and a jacket, the balaclava still on his head yet not looking entirely out of place. It definitely wasn’t ideal for a date, or any type of outing for that matter, but you were excited either way. You hardly ever had any time alone with him, never mind time off base, and there was no way you’d let this opportunity slip by. Not to mention it was the first date you’d been on in years, and you wanted it to be a fun time. Armed with your umbrella and more than a few knives and guns hidden on your person, you marched towards him, a skip in your step. 

“Pissin’ all by yourself, handsome?” you greeted as you walked up to him, making him choke on his cigarette smoke. You laughed as he tried to recover his composure, tickled with yourself that you’d managed to catch him off guard. 

“Wha’ the actual fuck?” he asked in a hoarse voice. 

“Sorry, I’ve had that TikTok stuck in my head lately,” you apologized, patting him on the back as he cleared his throat. 

“Surprised your brain hasn’t leaked out’a your ears,” he drawled as he flicked away his cigarette, crushing it under his boot. “Anyways, I grabbed us a car, c’mon,” he beckoned with his fingers, making you grab the back of his jacket. 

“Hang on pal,” you laughed as you let him go, opening up the umbrella and holding it high enough to shield Simon. “There, now we won’t get soaked.”

“You look ridiculous,” he remarked as he took the umbrella from your hand, making sure it covered both of you as you walked out into the rain. He led you silently to the car he’d reserved, leaning forward to grab the handle of the passenger side door and opening it.

“Get in,” he ordered as he held it open for you. 

“Such a gentleman,” you laughed, shooting him a wink as you slipped into the seat. He roughly closed the door behind you and stalked around the hood to get into the front seat. “Man, I didn’t know South Africa could get rain like this. It’s such a beautiful place, I’d love to come back in my free time, maybe when I retire. Have you ever thought about where you’d go when you retire?”

“No,” he answered curtly, putting an end to that conversation. 

“Fair enough,” you shrugged, looking at the rainy scenery around you. Soon enough (thanks to him speeding) you reached a nearby town, and you drove around looking for a place to park, which probably almost killed at least one person. Simon hopped out once he found a place and came back around to open the door for you, which made you smile to yourself. It was so odd, seeing a serious, no-nonsense guy like Simon try and be chivalrous on a first date. He held the umbrella over you both as you walked along the streets, looking around for a place to grab a drink.

“That one looks nice,” you pointed out a cozy looking little restaurant with a stone storefront and a wooden interior, lit by large, warm fairy lights. “What do you think?” He let out a short noise in response, and you two went inside. As usual, you did all the talking, trying not to laugh at how many looks Simon was getting from the staff and other patrons. You requested a table in a quiet part of the restaurant, a booth in the back that gave you perfect visibility of the entire interior and entrance. Instead of sitting on opposite sides of the booth, you sat on the same side, both wanting to keep an eye on the door and everyone inside. It was a habit that would probably never die. 

“Wait, are you gonna be able to eat?” you asked him, earning yourself a sideways glance. 

“Just fine,” was all he said, so you took his word for it. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” you shrugged as you grabbed a menu and looked it over, mouth watering at all the options. “God, this looks so good! You better not ruin this with your British-ness,” you warned pointedly. 

“What?”

“You Brit’s and your bland ass food, you better not complain about things being too spicy and embarrass me,” you threatened. He rolled his eyes at you and didn’t respond. You both looked over the menus in silence, and you were having a hard time deciding on what you wanted, there were just so many good options! You couldn’t choose.

“Hey, you think the boys would like any leftovers we have? I kinda wanna get a lot, but I don’t want it to go to waste,” you said, already having decided on a few things to get. 

“Gaz’ll eat anything,” he agreed, “but don’t buy too much, don’t need you draining my wallet.”

“I can pay for myself, Simon,” you said gently. “I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but I’m a big-girl,” you joked, elbowing him in the side. 

“On me,” he insisted, giving you a harsh stare down. You glared back at him but didn’t say anything, deciding not to argue further, for the time being, that is. You wouldn’t let him get the last word. 

“Anyways, you know what you want?” you asked him, leaning to look at his menu over his shoulder. He pointed to a few things he was curious to try, which you were definitely going to take bites from. “Ready to order then?” you clarified before you waved over a server. 

“Excuse me,” you called gently to the nearest emplyee, smiling as you made eye contact with them. They tried to approach you but balked slightly at the sign of Simon, only seeming to have the courage when you brightened your smile.

“Wh-what can I help you with?” they asked, nervously clicking their pen. You listed off all the things you wanted, looked to Simon, and then listed off what he wanted as well. The server nodded and ran off, leaving you two alone once more. 

“Man, I guess you really are terrifying,” you said with a laugh. 

“You think?” he asked sarcastically.

“I mean, in the right context, yeah,” you agreed. “But, I dunno, like this? I just think you look funny,” you admitted with a short snort. “I mean, you look so big in this seat! It’s comical,” you said with a shrug. “And cute.”

“Why do you do that?” he asked, looking down intently at the menu as if you hadn’t already ordered. 

“What? Call you cute? Because it’s true,” you grinned, tapping your foot against his own under the table. “I mean, does it bother you?”

“I’d tell ya ‘f it did,” he assured you in a gruff voice. 

“Good to know,” you said, then proceeded to make small talk as you waited for your food. You tried, in vain, to explain some of the memes you’d been sharing with Gaz, as well as some of the videos you’d been watching. You tried to show him some of the more weird ASMR videos you liked, going off on tangents about why you liked certain videos over others. You were in the middle of showing him a video of a turtle eating cucumbers when your orders were brought over. 

“Ah, this looks amazing!” you gushed as your orders were placed in front of you, each smelling fucking heavenly. “Okay, I’m about to tear up this spread.”

“Mm,” Simon nodded, making you look over. He was looking down at his plates, eyes slightly squinted. 

“Something wrong?” you asked as you reached out for a piece of chicken, your mouth watering in anticipation. 

“I didn’t order this,” he said, gesturing to one of the bowls, which was filled with a dark coloured broth and chunks of meat. 

“Oh, I’ll just tell the waiter,” you shrugged, turning out to the floor. 

“No, s’fine,” he muttered. 

“No, I got it,” you smiled, grabbing the bowl and waving another server over. “Excuse me, he didn’t order this,” you said politely, handing the bowl to them before turning to Simon. “Did you order something else?”

“Yeah, the bunny chow,” he muttered under his breath, not looking up from the table. 

“He ordered the bunny chow,” you relayed as the server’s eyes darted between you two. 

“Ah, that’ll be right out for you,” they smiled before scurrying away. You two were left alone once more, and you turned to give him an appraising look. 

“Never took you for the type to be nervous asking for a waiter,” you admitted, trying not to sound judgemental. “Guess you’re lucky I’m here, huh?” He nodded at you and began to nibble on his dishes. You smiled and began to dig in as well, enjoying the different flavors and watching Simon eat. He didn’t eat like most people, in large bites or focusing on one plate at a time, instead he ate like a bird pecking at feed, only taking little bits and pieces at a time. Maybe it was due to his mask, but maybe he was always like that, you’d never made note of it before. After an alarmingly short amount of time, the lieutenant began to sniffle slightly, letting out a few coughs and greedily drinking down his water. 

“Too spicy for you?” you asked, trying not to laugh at his weak will. “Pft, wimp.”

“I’ll deck you,” he threatened as he reached over for your drink and knocking it back. “Have the waiter bring more water,” he barked at you. 

“Can I get a please before you treat me like a common whore?” you said in a strange voice, making him choke on the drink he stole. You laughed as you took a bite of your Cape Malay curry, shaking your head at your companion. “Righ’, I’ll ask f’r a refill,” you relented, swallowing your bite. You, again, waved for a waiter, and you honestly felt bad for constantly badgering them what felt like every other minute. You got your water refills, along with some fresh tea, and went back to eating, with you stealing his food every once in a while.

“Fuck,” he croaked, his eyes watering behind his mask. 

“Quit while you’re ahead big guy,” you taunted, feeding yourself another forkful of food. “Your British blood makes you weak,” you went on dramatically. 

“Piss off,” he scowled at you as you snorted, gently kicking his foot with yours. You smiled at him, nudging his shoulder with your own, and stabbed a piece of meat on your fork to hold up to him. He looked down at the fork, up at you, then back down, then up at you.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna eat it?” you prompted, glancing between him and the fork. He looked at you for a moment, and you cocked your head to the side, silently challenging him: ‘what’s taking so long?’ Finally, he let out a sigh and leaned forward, eating off your fork and slowly sitting back “It’s good, isn’t it?” He hummed in agreement and went back to his own food, seeming to avoid the spicier stuff, like a wimp. You were so going to make fun of him for that later. 

“Think you’ve had enough?” you asked as you set down your utensils and wiped your hands off. “C’mon, let’s get back to base. I promised Soap I’d have’a drink with him, you should join us,” you said, gesturing to the nearest waiter for the final time. “Could we get some to-go boxes? And two checks, please,” you said, pulling out your wallet. You let out a small noise of surprise as Simon snatched your wallet from your hands, kept it out of your reach, and handed out a wad of cash over your head. 

“One check, keep the change,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. The waiter took the cash and nodded, smiling awkwardly before turning away.

“You’re a bastard,” you chastised him, snagging your wallet back. “I’m leaving a tip. A big one.”

“Why? We paid the check,” he rumbled before shaking his head in realization. “Bloody American.”

“Hey, old habits die hard,” you shrugged. “Plus, they deserve it for having to put up with the two of us.”

“What do you mean, we were perfectly decent customers,” he argued as a waiter dropped off the to-go boxes, at which point you began to put everything up. You tried to section things nicely, while Simon just dumped everything together with no rhyme or reason, like a complete heathen. You still put money on the table, because if you didn’t the guilt would keep you up at night, and grabbed the umbrella, opening it for you both as you stepped back into the rain.

“I can carry it,” he muttered, trying to snag it from you.

“Uh, no way. You carried it earlier, and you paid the check, and you drove! Let me at least do this,” you practically pleaded, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. He let out a long, annoyed sigh, and nodded, causing you to let out a victorious giggle. You made sure to hold the umbrella up high enough to cover him, getting yourself a little wet in the process, as you walked back to the car. You opened the driver’s door for him, grinning as you motioned with your head for him to get inside, which he did with reluctance. You practically skipped around the car to the passengers side, awkwardly opening the door and trying to close the umbrella. Your goal had been to avoid getting wet, as much as you possibly could, but as you shook the water off your umbrella (or tried to) the top of your head ended up getting soaked. You weren’t too bothered, at least your food was safe. 

“Take us home, lieutenant,” you grinned, trying to brush away the raindrops that clung to your hair. Simon stared at you for a moment, looking you over in that calculated manner of his, but there was something warm in his eyes. He lifted a hand up to your face, and brushed his fingers against your jaw, tickling your skin as he pressed his thumb gently but firmly against your jawbone. He stayed like that for a moment, a few beats passing by, before you turned your head and bit his hand. 

“You little shit,” he scoffed, pulling away, starting the car as you laughed at his reaction. You were laughing and grinning way too much, you probably looked like an idiot, but you were really fucking happy.